Do You Lean Into Your Weaknesses Instead of Your Strengths?
Photo by: ElevaeVisuals.com
Have you ever found yourself in a conversation about your work and realized you were inadvertently demeaning your own work? Of course, not. None of us would intentionally do that. And yet - the idea of certain skills and talents being effortless, or appearing to be effortless, is common across many cultures.
So, why is it that we value competencies that we struggle with over those that come more naturally to us?
The result is a paradoxical situation wherein natural talent, cultivated skill, and genuine mastery might be labeled as "easy" or "simple." This is not only a misrepresentation but is also potentially demeaning to our own and others' efforts. Recognizing the roots of this behavior and its implications is the first step in better understanding ourselves, our values, and the world of expertise around us.
The word "effort" plays a crucial role in this context. When we put in hours of hard work and grapple with a certain skill, we tend to place a higher value on it precisely because of the struggle. It echoes the age-old adage, “What is hard-won is more valued.”
My boyfriend’s mom raised him in the kitchen. He’s not a cook by trade, but he knows how to cook a lot of different foods, had a discerning palette, and probably most important in the kitchen, he knows what goes together. That has always been impressive to me. Most of us are not born into our trade however, we have to be introduced to it, and we have to do a certain degree of training, even if it comes naturally. It can be easy to devalue his skill or effort in the kitchen since it seems like an easy task for him, something he doesn’t have to think about. In reality, devaluing his skills also devalues my own effort because, at some point in the process of learning, we were likely at the same level.
(He was just probably 4, and I, 38).
In the professional world, some jobs might look simple from the outside, but they're often more complex than they appear. I've worked with skilled graphic designers and video editors who can turn basic ideas into impressive work. But when some team members got impatient about what they thought were "quick fixes," I saw they didn't understand the details involved. It wasn't about the designers or editors being slow, but more about the intricacies of the task at hand.
With that mindset, I delved into graphic design and video editing, realizing the intricate process behind crafting even a "basic" logo. The journey wasn't just about mastering the tools, but truly grasping aesthetics, brand narratives, and the essence of visual storytelling. Whether it's a graphic designer, video editor, or chef, if they seem to effortlessly produce quality work, it's a testament to years, perhaps even decades, of dedicated practice, and a little innate talent. Their apparent ease isn't a sign of simplicity; it's a reflection of their mastery. (Also: don’t get too hung up on the word “mastery” - I’d like to think it’s possible to master a subject, and still be open to its evolution)
Another danger of not recognizing and valuing our innate talents is that we can end up chasing competencies that don’t align with our genuine strengths. By constantly seeking out what we find difficult, we might miss the opportunity to refine and excel in areas where we naturally shine.
During grade school, I was always good at English Lit and thought about becoming a writer because I was constantly praised for it. But by high school, I felt like I was coasting — even though I was still getting high grades, no one was challenging me to do better. When I got to college and read works from many skilled authors, I realized that my writing was decent but not at that level. I was good at writing, but thinking I had it all figured out at 17 was a bit of a stretch. I wasn’t focusing on improving my writing because I didn’t realize there was a need for it (oh, to be seventeen again) - and instead focused my efforts on getting an all-around high GPA and legitimately almost failing classes because I was determined but
As we enter what sometimes feels like the era of burnout (and let’s be real, it’s not a new thing), it’s important to acknowledge and lean into our gifts and talents. I've always had a passion for writing, but it takes practice and dedication to refine it. As Gary Vaynerchuk suggests, “Bet on your strengths. It’s an underrated business strategy in a world where so many people are obsessed with fixing their weaknesses.”
I have a theory that the urge to constantly improve our weaknesses, rather than doubling down on our strengths, might stem from the notion of being "well-rounded."
The societal push, that happens primarily in high school, for all-around capability can overshadow the idea that mastering our innate strengths can lead to even greater achievements. Colleges and job recruiters often emphasize the importance of not just good grades but also involvement in clubs, community service, and other diverse experiences. The perfect candidate often had straight As, enrolled in multiple Advanced Placement (AP) courses, participated in 1-2 sports, and volunteered frequently. These students were seen as top performers - the expectation was that they would continue to excel, and anyone who didn’t meet those standards would not.
Broken down this way, it makes sense that all of this is just another way we are set up to seek perfection in our work.
We assume certain benchmarks for success, and many of us internalize these standards, believing that meeting them will bring validation and acceptance. It’s okay - we can work with that. It’s also okay to want to get better at things you’re not good at, or that you perceive as weaknesses - but don’t sleep on what you do well.
